


we lingered on bridges

by aritzen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 17:56:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13128879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aritzen/pseuds/aritzen
Summary: “What about fake dating?” he asks, and Kuroo gives him an incredulous look.





	we lingered on bridges

**Author's Note:**

  * For [noyabeans (snowdrops)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowdrops/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, Linn! I am your Santa, but you knew that already. So here's the fake dating kuroyaku that you asked for but didn't know you were getting. Except is it really fake dating? I'm not sure. I hope you enjoy it anyway ♥

(1)

Yaku stops typing when he hears the creak of the deck and his roommate’s footsteps. Kuroo pushes open the front door, and his tired sigh tells Yaku everything he needs to know about the blind date. 

“Didn’t go well?” he asks, looking over his shoulder from where he’s seated on the couch. 

Kuroo makes a face as he kicks off his shoes and proceeds to drape himself over the back of the couch like a disgruntled cat. He sounds as jaded as he looks when he mumbles, “How should I tell my cousin that I’m not interested in meeting random girls?” 

“Tell her you’re not interested in meeting random girls.” 

“I tried that, Yakkun. I tried everything under the sun. Trust me. She said she’d stop setting me up only if I started dating someone.” 

“Then start dating someone.” 

“You make that sound so easy... Are you—” Kuroo squints at the lit screen across from them. “Are you using our TV as your external monitor? Are you _coding_ on a Friday night?” 

“What else am I supposed to do?” Yaku retorts, miffed. 

Ever since Kuroo discovered a drama series about a bunch of cats plotting to take over the world from a cat cafe, the two of them had set aside Friday evenings to watch it together—until tonight, when Kuroo had to go and meet the third girl that his busybody cousin has introduced to him. It irritates Yaku, not because he finds himself bored on a Friday night but because Kuroo refuses to ignore his cousin (“she’s family, Yakkun”) or tell her outright that it’s not her business to meddle in his love life (“lack of love life, Yakkun”). 

“You could hang out with Kai,” Kuroo suggests. 

“Kai has a girlfriend now, remember?” 

“Oh Kai, my friend, how could you have abandoned us so cruelly?” Kuroo says in the same dramatic tone he used to deliver _O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo_ in the play they performed at the cultural festival in their last year of high school. “Will you abandon me too, Yakkun, if you find yourself a girlfriend?” 

“At the rate your cousin is setting you up with those girls, you’re going to be the one who winds up with a girlfriend, not me.” 

Kuroo lifts an eyebrow. “Will you be jealous?” 

“Why would I be jealous?” Yaku says hotly. He has absolutely no reason to be jealous. On the contrary, he has every reason to be relieved. Relieved that he’ll no longer have to put up with Kuroo whining about disastrous dates, or talking about this girl and that girl, or being single yet unavailable. 

It started some time back in high school, but he can’t pinpoint the exact moment his disdain for Kuroo became the opposite and developed into something more. Maybe it was the moment they announced their goal to win nationals, or maybe it was the moment they huddled under the eaves of a temple in Kyoto where they were caught in a storm on a school trip, or maybe it was the moment Kuroo tripped on his dress at the end of the play and fell on top of Yaku playing a dead Romeo. Yaku just knows that he’s successfully kept his feelings in check despite agreeing to share an apartment with Kuroo to cut down on college expenses, but the first blind date about a month ago has upset the status quo. He’s descending into hell, and he needs a way out. 

“Actually,” he continues, “why don’t you ask Kai how to get a girlfriend?” 

“What?” 

“Ask Kai how to get a girlfriend, then get a girlfriend. Your cousin will stop pestering you in no time.” _And I can live in peace._

“You know...” Kuroo says after a pause. “It’s not about how to get a girlfriend. It’s... How should I put this? I’m just not... There’s no girl I like, you know? But if I say that to my cousin, she just says, ‘Oh, that’s because you haven’t met the right girl yet.’ And she goes and sets up another blind date. I can’t just... I don’t want to deceive a girl when I don’t have any feelings for her, but at the same time...” 

Yaku waits for the rest of the sentence, but Kuroo quirks his lips, picking at a cushion on the couch, and shrugs in conclusion. _I don’t know,_ he’s saying. An idea strikes Yaku. 

“What about fake dating?” he asks, and Kuroo gives him an incredulous look. “As long as you both agree to it, you won’t be deceiving each other even if you don’t have feelings for each other, and you can stop going on those blind dates.” _And I can still live in peace._

Kuroo’s lips curve into a smirk. “Oho? Are you volunteering?” 

Yaku stares at Kuroo as if the other’s words have just smacked him, leaving his cheeks burning. “What? I... You... No!” Then: “You’d date a guy?” he asks, narrowing his eyes. His heart pounds. 

Looking away, Kuroo straightens up and spins the cushion like it’s a volleyball. “Well, I mean, it’s fake dating, right? Does it matter if it’s a guy or a girl? I hang out with guys more often than I hang out with girls, so it’ll be easier to convince my cousin that I’m actually dating someone if I hang out with them a lot. It’ll probably also be less awkward.” 

_Oh,_ thinks Yaku. 

“Anyway.” Kuroo flops down onto the couch and nudges Yaku with his elbow. “Since you already know everything, and you’re the one who came up with the idea, why don’t we just... How do you even ask someone out on a fake date?” 

“No,” Yaku huffs and folds his arms. “Go ask someone else. Like Kenma.” 

“Yaku,” Kuroo says flatly. “My entire family knows Kenma. They’ll know right away that we’re faking it.” 

“Bokuto then?” 

Kuroo cups his chin and considers the suggestion for two seconds. “He wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret, man. I can just see him blurting out, ‘Hey hey hey! This is my fake boyfriend!’” 

Yaku snorts and is about to throw out another name when Kuroo props his elbow on Yaku’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, I get it, buddy. You don’t want to be my fake boyfriend.” He pulls away with a long sigh. “I’ll ask around, I guess. It’s not a bad idea if I can find someone who’ll agree to this.” 

“Yeah,” Yaku murmurs. He’s so stupid, he suddenly realizes. He should’ve said yes instead of no. Kuroo might turn out to be a terrible lover, in which case it’ll be the perfect way to get over his ridiculous crush. Or Kuroo might turn out to be a terrific lover and leave him with memories of a lifetime even if it’s nothing but an act. Or something else might happen and—

Kuroo is asking something. “Yaku?” 

“What? Yes.” 

“Yes? More coding?” 

“Yes. I mean, no. What?” 

“What?” 

It’s now or never. “I said I’ll be your fake boyfriend.” 

Kuroo blinks in confusion. “Come again?” 

“I said...” Yaku chucks the cushion at Kuroo’s head. “Don’t make me say it twice, you ass!” 

“No. Wait. Hang on. What? I was asking you if you wanted to watch more cat drama or work on your coding assignment, and you suddenly say you want to be my what?” 

“I didn’t say I _want_ to be your anything. I said—I’m saying it’s more economical if I go along with your fake dating scheme because we’re already roommates. It’s not like your cousin is going to check on us in our apartment. It’s less trouble for you _and_ for me if I’m the one who agrees to this.” 

Kuroo blinks again and smirks. “Why, Yakkun, that’s the first time anyone has asked me out like that. I give you points for originality.” 

“Nobody’s asking you out!” Yaku shouts and twists around on the couch to kick Kuroo. He yelps when Kuroo yanks on his leg in retaliation, but stops short of hitting Kuroo with his laptop. Their eyes meet, and he barely remembers to breathe, trapped in body heat that is rising while his legs remain half-entwined with Kuroo’s long limbs. 

The spell is broken when Kuroo shifts his gaze and gives Yaku’s knee a pat. “Alright, let me get up. I’m gonna go get us some snacks, and we can watch one episode before bedtime.” 

Rolling his eyes, Yaku sits up and scoots away, hating his reluctant yet conscious effort to put distance between them. He hates his disappointment that nothing happened. “You were the one who dragged me over,” he grumbles. 

“You were the one who kicked me first,” Kuroo replies on his way to the kitchen. 

Yaku groans at their overall maturity (or lack thereof) and slouches into the couch, tempted to stretch out his legs just to see what Kuroo would do when he returns and finds his seat occupied. Only Kuroo can make him behave like this, and it irks him that he _wants_ to do this—that he ends up holding back. 

He doesn’t remember what happened in the episode they watched. All he remembers is the big bowl of snacks standing in between them like an unbreachable wall even though it has always been there, a silent reminder of what’s changed and what hasn’t. 

(2)

The subject doesn’t come up again until a few days later, while they’re preparing beef curry for dinner. Kuroo is cutting the beef into cubes next to Yaku, who’s peeling potatoes at the sink, when he asks, “What’re you doing this weekend?” 

“This weekend? I need to do laundry.” 

“Okay, but other than that?” 

“I don’t know.” Yaku looks up. “Why?” 

Finished with the cutting, Kuroo sets the knife aside to sprinkle salt and pepper over the beef cubes. “I was wondering... You know Tokyo Dome City? They’re doing some special promotion thing this month, and it looks like fun, so I was wondering if you wanted to go. With me, I mean. Y’know...” 

“What, like a date?” 

“Yeah, like a date.” 

They both pause what they’re doing to gauge the other’s reaction. The fridge hums in the background, punctuated by sporadic pops from the freezer. Yaku drops his gaze and resumes peeling the potato in his hand. 

“Did you tell your cousin?” he asks. 

“Sort of...” Kuroo puts away the salt and pepper and reaches for a bag of flour. Coating the beef cubes in flour, he continues, “She was asking about last Friday, so I told her there was someone I wanted to try dating. She was suspicious at first, but then I said, ‘Your blind dates helped me realize my feelings,’ and that seemed to have convinced her. We gotta do this now, Yakkun. Convince the whole world that we’re dating.” 

“The whole world?” Yaku echoes in disbelief as he dumps the peeled potatoes on a plate. “Why the whole world?” 

“Why not the whole world?” 

Yaku opens his mouth but shuts it again. Annoyed, he picks up a carrot and starts peeling it with more vigor than necessary. What exactly does fake dating entail? The morning after he brought up the idea, he woke up assuming that Kuroo would use the name “Yaku Morisuke” if his cousin asked, and Yaku would confirm it verbally if his cousin asked. Nothing more. Nothing between them would change or have to change. 

But that’s both an illusion and a delusion. It has descended upon him like a particularly long winter where everything grinds to a halt, and the cocoon of _same team, same class, same university_ prevents him from recognizing the transience of the cold spell that keeps the ice frozen for one more day. It’s going to change sooner or later: if not at high school graduation, then at college graduation; if not at a point where their paths diverge, then at a junction where one of them meets another person; and if not there, then... 

“So do you want to go?” asks Kuroo. “To Tokyo Dome City?” 

Yaku stiffens. He’s teetering, but he’s not sure between what. He places the peeled carrots next to the potatoes and replies, “Yeah, I’ll go. Saturday?” 

“Saturday, it is.” Kuroo grins, and it’s so genuine that Yaku knows he’s triggered an avalanche, that if he isn’t in love already, he will be by the end of this. 

(3)

It isn’t their first time going to Tokyo Dome City together. Kai was with them the last time, when Kuroo decided that the third-years should get together and hang out before nationals. 

“Sure brings back memories,” Yaku remarks as they pass through the arcade to get to the ticket booth. As expected, the banners are no longer promoting the “Red Thread of Fate” event for some idol anime as they did two years ago. Yaku remembers laughing at Kuroo for picking the most awkward weekend to visit Tokyo Dome City, and he remembers the two of them laughing at Daishou for being a hopeless romantic when they ran into him and Mika near the hotdog stand. 

“Yeah,” Kuroo says and points at the pillars. “I remember those Nohebi losers spying on their captain’s date from over there. Wouldn’t it be funny if we ran into them again?” 

“No, it wouldn’t!” Yaku laughs. They pay for their tickets and enter the attractions area. Trying not to notice the way their arms are brushing against each other, Yaku asks, “You didn’t tell anyone about this, did you? Do I have to be on the lookout for _our_ old team spying on us?” 

“Hmm, well, I did tell my cousin and Kai...” Kuroo slows to a stop, scanning their surroundings. Before Yaku can ask if he told Kai that he’s dating “someone” or (fake) dating _him_ , Kuroo pauses in surprise, eyes fixed on a spot behind Yaku, and says, “Oh, there’s Lev.” 

Yaku whips around. “What? Are you serious?” 

Kuroo cackles. “Just kidding. You’re too cute, Yakkun,” he adds when Yaku smacks his arm in protest. 

“What?” Yaku asks belatedly, not sure that he’s heard Kuroo correctly. 

“Beat you at Furi Furi Grand Prix,” Kuroo says and dashes toward the golf cart race track. 

“Hey! Get back here, you cheat! You didn’t beat me last time, so you’re not beating me this time!” 

And he doesn’t. Yaku finishes the race with two hundred more points than Kuroo, who has to stretch his legs after squeezing himself into and out of the golf cart designed to seat two five-year-olds. He complains about the size, Yaku rolls his eyes, and they move on to the next ride. 

At times, Yaku forgets that they’re on a fake date only to have the awareness sneak up on him again, looming over him like the rollar coaster in the park. He forgets when he’s elbowing Kuroo to spin the teacup in the other direction, until Kuroo throws his arms around him and pulls him into a tight hug. He forgets when he’s swearing at the crane machine for dropping the cat plush for the third time in a row, until Kuroo presses it to his face after winning it and gives it to him. These moments are brief, gone before he can react. Kuroo lets go of him almost immediately to regain control of the teacup. Gives his head a pat and walks away from the crane machine, saying he’s hungry. 

_It’s all an act,_ Yaku repeats to himself. _There’s no meaning behind it._

Yet it leaves him yearning for more. To be able to cuddle not the cat plush but his stupidly tall date-not-date. To be able to hold his hand. To be able to call this “a date” and not “like a date.” 

“What if we dated for real?” he asks near the end of lunch, when there’s a lull in their conversation. 

The full weight of his question sinks in after he hears his own words, and he freezes. _Shit._ “Uh, forget I said anything,” he says, crumpling his sandwich wrapping and tossing it into the trash can. He snatches the map of the park lying next to Kuroo. “Which ride do you want to go on next?” 

“Yaku...” 

“Which ride?” he asks again in an impatient voice. 

There is a pause before Kuroo replies, “How about Big-O?” 

“Which one is that again?” 

“The Ferris wheel. Or... If not, there’s also the merry-go-round and Bun Bun Bee, but that’s mostly for little kids. I think there’s even a _maximum_ height requirement for that one,” Kuroo quips. “C’mon, let’s go on the Ferris wheel,” he says and grabs Yaku’s hand as he heads toward the Big-O. 

“Wait—” Yaku tries to yank his hand out, but Kuroo tightens his grip. 

“Didn’t you want this to be a real date?” Kuroo asks with a glance over his shoulder, smiling. “Then it’s a real date.” 

“Huh?” 

It makes no sense, whether it’s the statement itself or the ease with which he says it. It’s enough, however. When Yaku stops making an effort to pull away, Kuroo loosens his grip and laces their fingers together. All attempts to rationalize this as a platonic date cease, and Yaku’s mind goes blank. By the time he manages to say the word “Kuroo,” a staff member is directing them to the next cabin. 

His ability to think begins to return when Kuroo lets go of his hand to climb into the cabin, but it leaves again when the cabin door shuts behind him. Kuroo selects one of the music playlists that come with the ride, and a song that reminds Yaku of seashells and summer fireworks starts to play as the world outside retreats from them. 

Yaku wonders what Kuroo is thinking, what he has been thinking, while he himself feels like he’s on the other side of the screen, watching a scene unfold in some K-drama. Kuroo flashes a lazy grin and stretches out, letting their legs touch. In a stupid urge to not lose, Yaku switches the placement of their legs and copies Kuroo’s pose. He scowls when Kuroo chuckles in response, but neither of them moves. 

The cabin seems to be in suspension near the apex, and Yaku fears for a moment that it has stopped. 

Kuroo says, “Y’know... To be honest, I’ve always treated this as a real date. It’s not to get my cousin off my back or anything. I mean, it’d be good if that happened, but it’s more...” His sheepish expression is one that Yaku has only seen off the volleyball court, when he’s confronted with solutions that turn out to be simpler than he’s expected. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Yaku. So long that I don’t even remember how it happened. It’s just... You never seemed... And I was—I didn’t want to make things awkward...” 

His face is red and he’s averted his gaze, but his voice is level despite the hesitation. Yaku knows he ought to say something, but his mouth is dry and there’s a tingling sensation in his nose. He flings the cat plush at Kuroo and then does the same with himself. It’s not comfortable at first with the cat plush and Kuroo’s arm caught between them and his knee hitting the metal seat, but there’s a calming sense of weightless fall as he settles into Kuroo’s arms and watches the world spin back into motion. 

“That makes two of us,” he finally manages to say. 

“So... let’s do this for real?” Kuroo asks with a hopeful smile. 

“I thought you already said this was real.” 

“Yeah, but real-real.” 

Yaku snorts but pulls Kuroo closer. “Yeah, real-real.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title is [prompt #7 of the August 2016 themes](https://31-days.livejournal.com/3229023.html).


End file.
